Smaller than Life

Chapt. 5

I keep thinking that maybe the world would be a better place if I didn't keep screwing up everyone's life like I do my own.

Dance… god, how I hate these things. No matter what Luna has ever said about not liking to dance, I will never believe her again. Not after four songs of complete chaos.

I stumbled over my own two feet the entire time. It may have been funny if it was another situation.

I went outside to get away from the liar, standing in the courtyard I was strongly reminded of when I was fourteen and me and Harry stood in the same courtyard in the same situation. I could hear all the sounds of people hiding in the bushes. Obviously making out.

And now as I sit on this cold stone bench, I wonder. Is Malfoy out here with Parkinson?

A smirk appears on my lips. Of course he is.

I shrug it off.

I smile to myself. Thinking of the night Harry and I found out that Hagrid was a half-giant. How shocked I was. How nonplussed Harry was. Its times like those I admit that I treasure most. Times before everything… happened. Cedric. Cho. Sirius. Umbridge.

Maybe that's why I'm so insane. Because I wish for things to be the same as they once were. I wish for Percy to be as he was when I was a child. I wish that Harry and I could go back to being 11 year-olds.

-The dance is over and I begin to walk back to the castle. Stopping for some unknown reason when I hear the sound of two giggly persons. Turning around, I see through a patch of bushes the distinct figures of Parkinson and Malfoy. Malfoy has her up against a tree. The giggling has turned into moans.

Whirling around I feel a sickness in my stomach. It travels around my entire body. I know that in about a few seconds I'm going to hurl.

Once I finish over a patch of flowers. I rest my head on the back of a new by tree. Concentrating on my breathing, counting over and over until the bile doesn't want to come back up.

I can honestly say that I don't understand why my reaction was like this. I mean it isn't as if I didn't know that they were… not together. From what Hermione told me a couple of weeks ago, they've been together for awhile.

I can still see his hand up her dress robe. Doing… I don't want to think about that.

I begin my slow descent into the Gryffindor Common room.

-

Harry is there listening to Seamus describe in detail how he almost made out with this Hufflepuff. He stares at me as I walk in. Nodding ever once and awhile to Seamus. I don't break contact and meet his stare head on. I lean against the table that they've put some drinks on. Taking a cup and drinking. We still haven't broken eye contact. Although I can't see them, I imagine how his irises must be glinting in the candle light.

It only occurs to me then that I haven't seen Hermione all night.

Seamus has finished his story, and Harry gives him his full attention. Taking his eyes off of mine.

I sigh and put down the cup. I decide to take a shower and then head off to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.

-

Shower's cool me down. The water jetting out of the top. The absolute need to rush. The prefect bathroom makes washing seem weird. I mean with that mermaid on the wall. It creeps me out. So I don't bath in there really.

There's stalls in this bathroom. The Six Year's bathroom is a little better than the Fifth Year. I tilt my head back to catch the water in my mouth.

Its only then do I get the feeling someone is watching me.

Turning around as fast as I can, the curtain's open and Harry is standing there. Staring at my body as if this was a normal thing.

The fact that he still has his clothes on and is leaning against the cubical door is really making me aroused. Embarrassed beyond anything else I don't know what to do. I turn around and pray that he'll just leave. But he doesn't. I can feel his stare.

I can hear his undressing. If it were possible I go even redder. I'm shaking I'm so afraid.

Afraid of what?

He's right behind me. And although he's shorter, I feel as though he's the dominant one right now. Reaching around me, I can feel his erection digging into my lower back. I bite my bottom lip to keep from groaning in longing.

He grabs the soap and begins to wash my back. First my shoulders, arms, back, then my buttocks and at last my thighs. I tremble when he comes to that part. He forces my legs apart. Running the soap between my legs, touching me in the most innocently erotic way. At that point I let out a small moan.

He stands up.

"Turn around, Ron." Ohmygodohmygod….

I do as he says. Feeling the blush redden to a deep maroon colour.

I expect him to kiss me. But he stares at my face, then goes back on his knees. I know what is going to happen. I don't want it to happen. But I can't seem to stop him. His mouth is so warm. This is the first time I've been subjected to this. The first time I've had someone's mouth on me. The warmth is great; the inexperienced tongue is even more. I can feel my muscles tense. My panting seems to be uncontrollable. I clutch at his hair. The water taming it to at last stay down. I can feel my climax coming.

I tighten my hold on his hair. Bucking only slightly as I come.

I lean against the shower wall. Tired, guilty.

Shame.

He kisses me for the first time. I can taste me on him. I kiss back. Wanting to taste more in morbid fascination, all of me. His hands are on my shoulders. Forcing me down to my own knees. And with that in mind I take my time, and place all my practice time on making this one hell of a shower scene.

-

I still taste him on my tongue. Its morning and I should be getting out of bed. But I really don't want to. I really just want to lie here and dream dreams that involve only innocent things. Not the filthy adolescent sex drives that have inhabited my world.

Neville is in the room, sleeping as well. I wonder what its like to be like him. To be the kind, naïve. I wonder what its like to be on the sidelines just watching. Not going through the near traumatizing over exaggerations that the Golden Trio go through. I wonder what it must be like to be only spoken about when I'm in the room. To find only comfort among plants.

I wonder what its like to be an only child whose parents are insane. I've always liked Neville. There was a charisma that simply made it easy to be around him. His smile and absolute welcome arms.

I wish that I never met Harry. I wish that I never allowed myself to dominated with my despair, thus rendering me possible for Malfoy. I wish that I never made a joke about Percy…

I wish for a lot of things.

I really need to get out of bed. I'm hungry and need to get ready for the Match today. And I should get Neville up.

Groaning I haul my sorry ass out of bed. And look over at where Neville's four-poster bed is. He's sleeping facing me, his mouth open only a little. His mop of brown hair, covering what has turned into a charming face. I smile.

-

I know that Harry is going to be silent about the entire shower scene incident. And yet although I know this, I can't help but feel a little put out.

I can feel it as I walk the predictable doom. Anxiety hits me hard as I think about walking down that pathway and into the Quidditch Pitch. I don't want to go. But I don't believe that there is an alternative.

Each one of my steps echo in my ears. I feel so tiny compared to how tall I actually am.

I placed my Quidditch robes on. The pads on my elbows and knees oddly enough make me feel calmer. Everyone else has done changing, yet I still haven't finished putting my shoes back on.

My heart is pounding. Not as fast as it used to when I had to play Keeper, but enough to keep my nerves alert. I feel sick. Hufflepuff is out there already waiting for Harry to stop ranting at us. I barely listen and concentrate on feeling not allowing the bile to over power me.

Harry and Zacharias Smith, the new Hufflepuff Captain shake hands grimly. I see Madame Hooch say the words. Then with a whirl everyone is leaving the ground. The loud catcalls of the crowd seem to affect only me. I force myself to not concentrate on that. I remember what Harry said in the change room about me being the worst Keeper this team has ever had.

For some unexplained reason my anger flares.

I can see Harry's back. The way he can control his flying as he cannot control anything else.

The Quaffle blocks my sight. Soaring by a blue of black and yellow.

I smack it with the tail end of my broom making it smash right into Smith. Chuckling evilly, I continue to safe the goals.

Until I see a black blur on my right. Smaller than life is the only thing I thought of to describe it.

A shot of pain. My right side caving into my left. Then the sensation of falling…

Black.